


Kink is the Spice of Life

by glitterpile



Series: Kinktober 2018 [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: BDSM, Dom!Yuuri, Ficlets, Fluff, Humor, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic, Snippets, check chapter tags, sub!viktor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-07-23 06:17:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 12,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16153331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterpile/pseuds/glitterpile
Summary: Kinktober 2018! Prompts taken fromhere.Short slice of smut Viktuuri ficlets, varies between T and E rating, with some of the days being humour more than porn. But mostly E!Enjoy!





	1. Face-sitting

**Author's Note:**

> These are all intended to be canon-compliant, but where each one is in the timeline of Yuuri getting more confident with Viktor will jump around a bit. Day 31 will be a bigger fic, posted as a standalone in this series.
> 
> If you're the kind of person who cares about who is bottoming for penetrative sex, check the notes at the start of each chapter as I'll mention that there when it happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags - rimming, bottom!Yuuri

Yuuri breaks their kiss and sits up a little, roving his eyes over Viktor’s mussed hair and the flush already visible on his cheeks. “So, uh… you said you wanted to eat me out tonight?” He can’t help blushing at the thought, even though it’s something they’ve done several times before. It still feels strange and dirty to think about, let alone talk about it out loud, and an odd tingle flutters at the bottom of his stomach at the thought that he’s starting to get _used_ to this. 

“Hmm, well…” Viktor runs his hands greedily over the skin on Yuuri’s hips and down his thighs, “why don’t you sit on my face this time?” 

“ _What?_ ” Yuuri hopes he doesn’t look too shocked, but he’s not sure he can control his facial expressions right now. “Won’t- won’t that be too heavy? I could crush you…”

He stares as Viktor smiles at him sweetly and chuckles, “Yes, that’s the point. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to get pinned down by your ass.” 

Yuuri chokes — “Uh, right. Sure. Ok, let me just-” — and carefully turns around on top of Viktor, somewhat glad that his face is now facing the other way and giving him a chance of hiding how red he’s gotten. “How’s this?” he checks in as he lowers down, and barely hears the “ _Perfect_ ” before he feels Viktor’s lips against his skin. 

Yuuri gasps a little, feeling the wet pressure on his hole, his focus jumping between the excitement of Viktor’s enthusiasm and trying to maintain his position without pressing down too much. He hovers on the line of building need, tempered by concern for Viktor, until he feels the wide hands move from his thighs to grab onto his hips and pull him down, and he lets his weight sink down onto Viktor’s face. 

He can suddenly feel _everything_ — his ass pressing into Viktor’s cheeks, searing hot under his skin, each finger digging into his hips, surely leaving red burning marks, and that tongue pushing in past his ring with an intensity that makes sparks shudder up his spine. Yuuri stifles a moan behind bitten lips as he puts a hand on Viktor’s chest to help keep his balance, and with the other grasps at his leaking cock.


	2. Begging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags - nipple play, blindfold

Viktor breathes in, trembling, floating in darkness. As comforting as the blindfold is, it also keeps him on edge as soon as it’s put on. He can’t hold back from jumping just a little when something touches his chest — Yuuri’s rough fingertips brush down towards his nipples and then vanish just as he thinks they’ll make contact. Viktor breathes out, trying to hear the rustle of Yuuri’s clothes in front of him and guess where he is, whether he’s holding anything. 

“Vitya, you’re leaning. Do you want me to touch you that badly?”

Viktor didn’t even realise he was leaning forward. He tries to shift back a little, just enough to be obedient, then jerks when his left nipple bursts into searing pressure. Viktor gasps, and starts breathing faster, as if the pain can be exhaled, as if the pleasure can be spread down to where he wants it, and yet there’s nowhere he’d rather it be than rushing across his chest right now. 

Yuuri’s fingers hold, and hold, a burning point consuming his every thought, and hold, and then, just when Viktor thinks it must be over, Yuuri twists just a little harder and Viktor breaks. 

“Please- please, I can’t- Yuuri, sir, please, ah-” 

Viktor shudders as the blood rushes back into his nipple, tingling in release, and he barely has time to breathe before his other nipple is sharply pulled. 

“Your cock twitches when I do that, did you know? It’s cute.” 

Viktor can’t do anything but let the words wash over him, the embarrassment of his reaction making it harder to deal with the sharp pinch while his left nipple still continues to dully burn. He tries to last as long as he can, but the steadily increasing squeeze gets overwhelming so fast that it’s all he can do to not burst. 

“Please, Yuuri- _ah_ , no, please- _sir_ , pleasepleaseplease-”

Viktor gasps as relief surges through him when the vice grip is removed, and he can barely hear Yuuri’s next words through the pounding blood in his ears.

“Good boy. Do you think you can handle more?” There’s a cheeky lilt to his tone. Viktor takes a deep breath and nods.


	3. Temperature Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: ice? I guess?

Yuuri pulls the bowl he placed on the floor earlier closer to himself. “Well, I’ll just have to make you soft again, and then we can keep going.” 

“Sure,” Viktor nods, his shoulders relaxed. Yuuri watches him momentarily tighten his grip on the ropes pulling at him from different sides of the bed and reaches in to grab a large icecube from the bowl, trying to balance holding it without it slipping out, and not freezing all his fingers instantly.

He presses it directly to Viktor’s erection and grins a little when he hears him hiss. Viktor’s dick twitches up, and Yuuri moves the icecube just a bit. He gets into the rhythm of shifting the ice around the shaft, keeping it in each spot for as long as he can without feeling like he’ll risk frostburn, sliding it over the foreskin and amusing himself at each jerk the hard cock makes as the melted water drips across Viktor’s taut stomach.

Yuuri grabs another icecube when the first shrinks, too small to be effective, and is partway through melting it down as well when he suddenly stops and narrows his eyes. 

“You’re still hard.” 

Viktor gives him a sheepish grin. “Um, yep? I may be enjoying this a bit too much. Sorry.” 

Yuuri drops the icecube back into the bowl and slaps a hand over his own face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri before: I don’t want to use a whole icepack. What if I get the icepack dirty? What if the icepack gets _Viktor_ dirty?  
>  Yuuri after: I should have used a whole icepack.


	4. Spanking

Yuuri pauses after the tenth strike to shake his hand off in mid-air, wincing a little at the tingling remnants of the impact. Is he doing this right? Is it meant to sting this much for the one doing the spanking? At least he’s certain he’s only hitting fleshy, and more importantly safe, areas — and it would probably hurt more to do it wrong and strike bone, after all. He drops his hand down to gently cup the ass in front of him. It’s getting somewhat pink, which is nice, he supposes, but apart from that he’s not sure he’s feeling… anything at all about it, really.

“How are you going?”

He keeps his hand in place as Viktor responds: “It’s alright.” Yuuri frowns — was that… was there a tiny shoulder shrug there? And that breathy quality to his voice is missing, compared to when he seems to be enjoying himself. That’s- that’s definitely not ideal. 

Yuuri tries to swallow his rising panic. “No, really, is there anything wrong? Is it bad pain?” 

Viktor pulls himself up onto his elbows and turns his head, looking him in the eye. “It’s fine, you can keep going if you want.” 

Even without his glasses on Yuuri would be able to tell that the hint of a smile Viktor is trying to give him right now is fake. And he can’t feel Viktor’s arousal pressing into his thigh anymore, either. 

“No, you’ve counted to ten. Let’s just have a shower, and put some cream on that for you.” 

Yuuri watches Viktor ease himself into a standing position, and mentally throws spanking firmly into the “not for us” pile.


	5. Feet

“Vitya, that’s enough.” 

Viktor nods as he takes his hands off Yuuri’s foot, now soft and smooth like the other one, and put the lid back on the moisturiser with a soft click. Even though he wants the foot on him right now, he picks up the boot lying on the floor near his knees and carefully, gently brings it forward to slide it up into position, aiming to put it on with as little movement required on Yuuri’s part as possible. A firm press is all it takes before it’s in, and Viktor runs his hands down the reflective black surface, enjoying the stiff smoothness under his hands. Yuuri’s feet are amazing all the time, of course, but like this they look exquisite. 

The zipper starts right at the sole, and as Viktor slowly, carefully drags it upwards with one hand, the other is smoothing the path, ensuring no skin or material is caught. He gets caught in the moment, fingers flickering and brushing and adjusting tirelessly - around the curve of Yuuri’s ankle (his ankle!), with a little tightness past the meat of his calf, over the side of the knee and up, up towards the top of his thigh.

Viktor can’t help smoothing his hands down both sides of the boot when the zipper is done, moving back down towards the starting point, although the surface is perfectly smooth without it. With one hand cupping perfectly around the pointed heel and Yuuri’s ankle, and the other supporting the narrow toes, all it takes is the slightest effort to bring the foot up to his lips.

He only gets a moment to kiss it before the foot is pulled out of his grasp and pressed down on his crotch; Viktor lets a little gasp of need escape his mouth, shifting his hips up into the pressure as inconspicuously as he can, when he sees the other, bare, foot raised in front of his face. 

“The second one, Vitya.” 

Yuuri is always so good at keeping him on track.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...


	6. Corset

The little metallic sounds of locks rotated into position are barely there, a whispering prelude. Yuuri takes what may be his last deep breath for a while.

“Ok, go ahead.” 

He stares straight ahead, hands subtly fingering at the silver and black jacquard fabric, distracting himself by mapping the quilted grooves while the feeling of laces sliding through eyelets vibrates into his skin. It’s a steady shift, an adjustment, a correction; the slowly increasing pressure is so evenly distributed that it’s easy to deal with even as he starts noticing it on his ribs. It’s harder to take that full breath now, but with the way his pulse is speeding up he’s not sure he even wants to. 

Behind him, a few last jerks that threaten to unbalance him, followed by rubbing sounds, and then Viktor speaks. “There, done.” 

Yuuri takes a few steps forward and turns to the full-length mirror. For a second he’s pleased with what he sees: powerful black lines, trimming his waist and framing his shoulders above and thighs below. Fine glimmering details, reminiscent of the crystals on the Eros costume, but with a firmness that promises to give him an air of unwavering power. But immediately after that, he frowns. 

“I can’t wear this.”

He can see Viktor standing quietly behind him. “You don’t like it?”

“I like it, but…” Yuuri turns sideways and puts his hand between his chest and the wide pieces bent over his shoulders, making the sizeable gap there obvious. “It’s obviously designed for busty women. And this buckle-” he fiddles with the steel hardware attaching the bottom part of the fabric to the top of the corset, “-is already at the tightest hole. That’s it.” 

Viktor watching him thoughtfully, silently, doesn’t make him feel any better. He knows he’s rambling at this point, but the mood is a lost cause by now anyway. “And I can’t even detach these straps, look! The entire back is one solid piece! I thought because of the buckle in front that it was removable… god, I feel like such an idiot. Why did I pick this one?”

“Yuuri, it’s alright. I’ll send it back and ask for a refund. You don’t have to worry about a thing.” 

Yuuri sinks into Viktor’s arms when they wrap around him, a pressure that feels warm and comforting in contrast to the now stifling tension of the corset. He closes his eyes and with each truncated breath tries to forgive himself for making Viktor clean up yet another mistake of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and then they buy a different, less fiddly style corset and actually get to enjoy it. Don't worry ;)


	7. Praise Kink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags - summer of mutual pining

Some days it’s all Yuuri can do to not explode in glee. Idle daydreams and teenage fantasies are one thing, of course, but even in those Yuuri always imagined being somewhere else – at a competition, in Detroit, even by some lucky chance in St Petersburg. And then Viktor notices him, and-

“Gorgeous, Yuuri! You got that last movement just right this time!”

-but he’s here, in his home town, at his childhood rink, and instead of getting Viktor’s attention for a minute, an hour, at most a day, and having to compete with others to be noticed, Yuuri gets to have Viktor _all to himself_. Constantly. Every day, for months. And Viktor apparently isn’t tired of him yet.

“Good job! Let’s do that one again, I want it to be like that consistently!”

Yuuri still feels an intermittent urge to pinch himself. On top of all that, now that he’s getting more comfortable with Viktor’s presence, he’s appreciating more and more just how much Viktor pushes him and believes in him-

“Excellent, keep going!”

-not satisfied with just enough, but making sure Yuuri tries his utmost, shows his best, and overflowing with praise when he does. And then, when ice time is over, instead of leaving Yuuri to take care of himself, Viktor will always go _that extra step_ : passing him his water bottle, picking up his bag, checking for his bruises. Like right now, where Viktor Nikiforov is once again _kneeling at his feet_ (god, what is his _life_ ), apparently insistent on removing Yuuri’s skates himself every time.

Yuuri can’t help but tease him, to repay the favour – “Good job.”

Yuuri’s not sure what he expects, but it’s not this – an almost invisible hitch of breath with a slightly open mouth, a vulnerable glance into his eyes, the slightest spreading blush across his cheeks. Not once in all his stalkerish years has Yuuri seen Viktor look like this, no matter how many people flattered his skating rinkside or in interviews; and, combined with their current respective positions, a completely different fantasy springs unbidden into his head, which he desperately hopes doesn’t show up on his face.

The moment is over before it really starts, and it’s only when they’re walking out of Ice Castle’s front entrance that Yuuri realises that Viktor didn’t tease back.


	8. Angry Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags - anger (roleplay), handjob, degradation

“Viktor, what are you doing?!”

Viktor takes an involuntary step back as Yuuri whips his head around to glare at him. He flinches, too, when the stirring spoon in Yuuri’s hand is flung at the counter, drips of stew flung across the surface in a splatter of rage. Viktor tries to raise his hands in a show of apology.

“Yuuri, I-”

“Don’t _‘Yuuri’_ me! You know I can’t work like this!”

Yuuri yanks off his apron while he’s speaking and tosses it somewhere to the floor. Viktor’s thoughts fluctuate between confusion and _Eros_ as Yuuri brushes his hair back from his face, and only realises he’s been backing away from Yuuri’s advancing steps when his shoulder blades hit the wall with a cold shudder.

Viktor’s really not sure where he went wrong – all he was doing was taking advantage of how glorious Yuuri’s butt looks in the jeans he’s wearing right now. And, sure, maybe after a few minutes of fondling his hands strayed a little further around to the front at the same time, but-

“I’m sorry?” 

“You can’t get out of this with just an apology!”

Yuuri slams his palm against the wall just above Viktor’s shoulder, brows deeply furrowed and eyes intent behind his glasses, and Viktor’s questioning erection comes roaring right back to full hardness when Yuuri’s other hand unexpectedly dives into his pants, starting to stroke him rough and fast, almost painfully so. 

“What-”

“You’re so horny that you think distracting me near a hot stove is a good idea? You can’t keep it in your pants for just half an hour?! It’s _pathetic_ how much of a needy slut you are!” 

Between the sudden forcefully-spat degradation, and the feeling of being trapped under his dom’s powerful form, and Yuuri touching him just right, it’s barely a few more strokes before Viktor is coming. He clenches his eyes shut, stunned by the betrayal of his own body, and gingerly brings his arm up to clutch at Yuuri’s back when he feels his forehead drop onto his collarbone. 

This was _way_ better than he expected when he told his husband last week that he’d love for him to try being more forceful. 

There’s a quiet, almost-whisper from below his chin: “Was that ok?”

Viktor leans his head back against the wall and squeezes Yuuri in to him. “Oh my god, that was _amazing_. Just- just let me catch my breath-”

He can feel Yuuri shaking his head, and can almost imagine his grimace as he draws a thoroughly sticky hand out of Viktor’s pants. “No, don’t worry about it, we’ll do more later but I really do need to finish dinner first. Why don’t you clean up and put on the laundry right now?” 

Viktor hums his agreement, feels a kiss flutter onto his jaw, and then Yuuri pulls away and his footsteps retreat towards the sink. Viktor will do exactly as Yuuri says, of course… just as soon as his legs stop feeling like jelly and he thinks he can leave the wall’s support.


	9. Bondage

Yuuri yanks on the cuffs, bringing Viktor’s wrists together behind his back and snapping them together with a clip. He takes a moment to run his fingers around them, the pebbled texture of the leather soft under his touch, and, when he’s satisfied that there’s just enough slack remaining to not dig into Viktor’s arms, he positions the first belt strap. 

“Is this tight enough?” 

“Mmhmm.” Viktor’s head is tilted down and away from him, and Yuuri smiles and drops a kiss to the back of his neck before grabbing the second strap. This one goes around Viktor’s upper arms just below the first one, and then two more join it, keeping Viktor’s arms in place behind him. He gently pushes on Viktor’s shoulder to encourage Viktor to tip sideways onto the bed, supporting his upper body to keep the landing slow and soft. 

The matching ankle cuffs are already in place, but Yuuri puts another belt strap around each individual leg first to bring the calf up flush against the thigh, and only after clips the two ankles together. It’s short work to pull a small length of chain between the ankle and wrist clips, linking them and tightening just enough to make Viktor arch his back.

It’s not something that Yuuri quite understands – he let Viktor try binding his limbs, once, and all it did was ratchet up his anxious thoughts by adding claustrophobia to the mix. He’s not sure it will ever feel comfortable on him without enough leeway to make it almost inconsequential. But, running his hands over Viktor’s skin and his muscles bulging a little between the tight straps, Yuuri can see that Viktor’s breath is evening out and he’s sure his eyelids have fluttered closed by now. Something about the unyielding restraint takes all the tension out of his body, like he doesn’t need to hold a pose for an audience, and makes him free without Viktor having to put any effort into dropping his pretences – because the bonds give him no choice. 

Also, Yuuri thinks as he reaches around towards Viktor’s cock, it’s very convenient for teasing him. After all, Viktor does get so delightfully hard when he knows there’s no escape…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued...


	10. Hair-pulling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags - blowjob (implied, bottom Viktor)

His hair is so soft. The thin silk strands slide through Yuuri’s fingers, laying in place wherever he shifts them. Yuuri marvels at the colour every time, the subtle variation in hues so much less than those posters, and yet so much more beautiful for being in his grasp. He lets his hand slide down and then brushes through again, and again, enjoying the simple action and the feeling against his skin, and excuses himself for it by gently moving Viktor’s fringe off his eyes. 

Yuuri smiles down at Viktor, waiting patiently with soft, hopeful eyes, and switches his hand from sliding to firmly grasping, using the whole handful to sharply yank his head back. Viktor’s neck tenses with a vulnerable gulp, and Yuuri uses his other hand to aim his cock to Viktor’s lips. 

“Open up.”


	11. Cross-dressing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags - degradation, anal fingering (bottom Viktor)

Somehow, a discussion of long hair and early costumes has led to this – Yuuri sitting a short distance away from Viktor on the edge of the bed, watching his husband fit stocking-clad feet into large heeled shoes.

“I don't wear this stuff much,” he says, forcing the stiff strap into the tiny buckle. “But for some reason, I didn't want to throw it away, even though it doesn't look the same any more.”

Finished, Viktor stands up and turns to Yuuri, a clear, unasked “what do you think?” hanging in the air between them. Yuuri sucks in a breath and stands up as well. Between the heels and the impossibly short miniskirt, barely clearing Viktor's buttcheeks, Viktor's legs seem to stretch for miles. There's the tiniest sliver of skin showing between the lace-edged top of the thigh high stockings, black with a subtle seam running down the back, and the lace trim at the bottom of the skirt. 

Yuuri steps in closer and is suddenly struck by how tall Viktor is like this. He's not sure he's ever been this tall; even when Viktor is in skates, Yuuri is usually in skates as well or not standing right next to him, so he's never felt this height difference before. Yuuri feels every centimetre of Viktor's broad shoulders towering over him, and it’s disorienting, uncomfortable, reminiscent of when he still saw this man as a larger-than-life idol. 

He pulls his gaze back down to the silky pink fabric and furrows his brows at one of the folds bulging up. Yuuri reaches out to smooth it down and blood rushes straight to his dick as he touches what turns out to be Viktor's rock-hard erection. 

He snaps his head back up to look Viktor in the face, “Viktor, what?..”

Yuuri starts rubbing, almost unconsciously, as Viktor closes his eyes and braces his hands on Yuuri's shoulders. “Ah, I… I don't really wear tight things outside of skating. And, this skirt is so short, it feels… vulnerable.” 

Of course. Once Viktor was an adult, this kind of vulnerability wouldn't have meshed well with his public image. But here, in their bedroom… 

Yuuri suddenly feels that this situation is so familiar, like slipping into a beloved costume, and his own growing hardness spurs him into action. He yanks Viktor's head down for a hard, burning kiss, pressing up into Viktor's chest and clutching at him feverishly. He releases him for barely a moment, leaving Viktor gasping, before he steps around and pushes him roughly down to the bed. Viktor stumbles a little, but manages to lower his knees to the floor, and Yuuri pushes on his shoulders further now to shove them down flush into the bed. Viktor’s legs are automatically spread well apart, and Yuuri isn't surprised to find the lace thong becoming damp when he reaches with his other hand to start stroking him through it.

A thought seizes him, a half-remembered idea of Viktor taking too long in the bathroom earlier. “Did you already clean yourself out?”

“I sure did.” Viktor's half-chuckle is muffled by the sheets, and Yuuri presses his forehead into Viktor’s back, releasing a little whine.

“How do you manage to find new ways to be a slut all the time? Stay here,” he punctuates his command with a firm press of his hand between Viktor's shoulder blades, and tries to stand up and fetch the lube in a way that looks far more controlled than the desperate scramble he feels inside. His hand and fingers generously slick, he kneels behind Viktor and uses his other hand to flip up the skirt and pull the thong aside. 

“You're so accessible like this.” Viktor's response is a pleased hum. His hole is already twitching, partly in anticipation, partly from the tightness of the pull on the underwear, and Yuuri bites his lip to try to control himself as he sinks in the first finger.


	12. Stockings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags - implied bottom Yuuri
> 
> I'm cheating a little bit here - today's prompt is getting swapped out with Day 30. Trust me, it'll make some of the other stories flow a bit better ;)

Yuuri pulls up on the bright red rubber one last time, then brings one leg up to look at it. Not bad, he thinks, considering it was an off-the-shelf size. The latex stocking is much more robust than he expected, and once he got the bulk of it past his heel it rolled on pretty easily. Yuuri vigorously brushes his hands against each other to get rid of the dusty feeling, and idly rubs at a few matte spots where he spilled talcum powder on the outside of the latex, wondering how easy that will be to get off.

The click of the bathroom door startles him back into focus, and he looks up to see Viktor with a towel around his hips.

“Oh! Are you done already?” 

Yuuri nods. “Yeah, it wasn’t as tight as I thought after I managed the feet.”

He matches Viktor’s pleased smile with one of his own, and closes his eyes as Viktor swoops down to kiss him, sighing happily at the slow, sweet presses. 

An odd feeling registers at the top of his thigh, and he breaks the kissing to look down, spotting the problem quickly – the thin top edge of the stocking has started rolling itself down into a tight little coil. He spreads it out flat again with his palms, and looks back up at Viktor, relaxing a little when he sees the patience on his face. 

“Let’s shine these up a little, shall we?” Viktor squeezes Yuuri’s thighs a little, as if it could possibly be unclear what he’s referring to. “I want to see them properly!”

“Oh, uh, sure.” Yuuri waits on the edge of the bed, biting his lip, and while Viktor is fetching a damp cloth he fixes another roll starting to form on the stocking. He tugs it a bit further up his thigh, mentally willing it to stay.

Viktor kneels at his feet, and swipes the towel down his shin-

“Ah! That’s cold!” yelps Yuuri in surprise. His leg twitches as he tries to get used to the odd feeling of the evaporating water on the latex making his skin tingle, and he grins at a startled Viktor to encourage him to continue. It only takes a few more brushes for both of Yuuri’s legs to be thoroughly reflective, gleaming highlights emphasising the tightness around his muscles. Yuuri can almost see Viktor drooling, and is about to chuckle when he feels the stocking on the other leg start rolling down with a vengeance.

“Why won’t it stay up?! Viktor, what am I doing wrong? I thought these were listed as not needing a garter belt,” pouts Yuuri. 

Viktor frowns at it, then walks over to his phone, scrolling through. “Let’s see what the email from the store said… ‘ _Most people find they stay up by themselves. Perspiration usually helps keep them in place. If you don't perspire much, fold the top down and wipe a damp sponge round, then fold back into place._ ’ ”

Viktor has barely finished reading before Yuuri grabs the cloth and starts following the instructions. He waits a few minutes, then stands up experimentally. They share hesitant smiles, and Yuuri is about to get on the bed when he feels the start of a hesitant roll at the back of his thigh.

“It’s not working,” Yuuri groans and smoothes it out stubbornly, then flops face-down onto the blankets. 

“Maybe we need a smaller size?”

“We can't go any smaller, it’s already too tight on my feet.” 

“Well, I still think they look great. They might stay up better if you can move less until they stick.” 

Yuuri sighs as he feels Viktor's hand slide over his ass, and lets himself enjoy the feeling for a little while. “...fine. You're topping, then. Get the lube.” He grins at the kiss he gets just above the edge of the stockings, and turns his head to watch Viktor take off his towel.


	13. Gags

Yuuri kisses him. Viktor is normally so strong, so passionate, but right now under his lips he feels soft, slightly swollen, slightly chill from the unrelenting passing of air over moistened skin during the whole scene. His jaw is still weak from stretching, and there are deep red marks at the corners of his mouth. Yuuri can’t help but try to devour him, and Viktor moans under him, barely able to respond in kind. 

Yuuri draws his hand along Viktor’s jaw, smearing the drool from where his thumb held Viktor’s chin. “You were so good. You were perfect. I can’t believe you lasted that long.” He kisses Viktor again, little fluttery things of awe, while his other hand drifts down through the trails of spit left on Viktor’s chest and stomach, his abs moist and glistening. He pulls away slowly, and watches as Viktor opens his eyes, his face so soft and gentle now that it’s done being stretched open. 

“I just wish… hey, Viktor?” Viktor makes a quiet humming noise, encouraging him to go on. “Do you think we can try getting a ring gag instead for next time?” 

It feels like Viktor wakes right up at this question, and, oh, Yuuri will _never_ get tired of seeing that heart smile appear on his face. “ _Yuuuri_. Yes. Please. I love that.”

They’ll have to move to clean up in a few minutes, but for now Yuuri feels like he can sit here for this little drop of eternity, enjoying them grinning at each other at the thought of future plans.


	14. Tentacles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tentacles are 100% canon don’t @ me
> 
> Tags: orgasm denial, bondage, bottom viktor, bottom yuuri

“Can… can I move you?” Yuuri leans towards him, half-sitting at his side, a hair’s breadth separating them. Yuuri’s gaze feels like a hot brand, leaving marks all over Viktor’s skin.

Viktor smiles sweetly, eager to find out what Yuuri has in mind. “Put me wherever you want me.”

Three of the thick, muscular tentacles gently wrap themselves around his torso, and Viktor watches them as they settle in, shifting and adjust in place. He gasps a little, the breath punched out of him, when they suddenly lift and he feels like a doll, cradled in the whims of a creature much stronger than he is. It makes him feel lightheaded, like he’s momentarily floating, even though he’s been lifted barely a few centimetres to get pulled down to the centre of the bed. 

The tentacles release their hold and shift off him, leaving a cool, moist feeling behind wherever their touch fades. The suckers pulling off his skin remind him, oddly, of the cupping his grandmother insisted on whenever he felt under the weather as a child. He reaches out without thinking to grasp at Yuuri’s thigh, a feeble attempt to ground himself, and barely gets in a squeeze when a tentacle slides its way around his wrist and pulls. Viktor feels Yuuri’s hard cock brush against him when Yuuri leans over, grabbing his other wrist with his hand, and draws it up and over his head to be securely held in place alongside the first. The living manacle gives Viktor something to push against, to test his strength and come up woefully short, and the sensation centers him, brings him back to notice more tentacles wrapping around his thighs. He shudders as they’re pulled wide, the forced exposure a searing reminder of who is in charge. 

Viktor watches, anticipation mixed with a tinge of concern building up in his gut, as Yuuri opens the lube bottle and adds extra slick to _two_ of the free tentacles. Two? Viktor bites his lip, and isn’t sure if he’s relieved or disappointed when only one delicate tip curls down beneath his balls to gently trace over his skin. 

“I thought we could play a game…” 

Viktor tries to focus on Yuuri’s words, but can’t help being a little distracted at seeing the other lubricated tentacle disappear behind Yuuri’s hip.

“Do you want to see who can open up and take in more of the tentacle faster? If you win, I’ll let you come today.” 

Viktor snaps his gaze back up to Yuuri’s face and nods eagerly. “Yes, thank you, yes.” He instantly feels the intrusion beginning between his cheeks and pushes down, eyes fluttering shut as he wills his body to relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endnotes:  
> Bonus story, entirely provided by my husband when I lamented my struggles with not having written this chapter yet. 
> 
>  
> 
> It was Tuesday, and the ice boys were skating on the ice when suddenly one of the ice boys said “oh no! The tentacles are here!”  
> So then the tentacles burst through the door and went right on the ice, but the ice boy wasn’t scared, not even a little bit! He skated right up to tentacles and started skating right along the tentacle, up and down it, jumped in the air and then did a triple tushie and landed and didn’t even trip over, not even a little bit, which all the judges thought was really cool.  
> The tentacles were also really impressed and asked to make out with the ice boy.  
> The ice boy said yes because he was a firm believer in healthy consensual relationships; the other ice boy also joined in because he didn’t value consent so much.  
> And anyway, time passed and now there was a beautiful family of two ice boys with the tentacles and lovely pair of baby ice tentacle boys on the way, and they lived hornily ever after. The end.
> 
> Husband: “See, this is why I’m important to this fandom.”  
> You did great, sweetie :') Also, I'm immortalising your bullshit in this fic. Sorry not sorry.


	15. Forniphilia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags - bondage

Yuuri lifts a piece of pork out of the bowl, just barely grasping it before the bowl wobbles a little on the tray with a dull clatter. He puts a hand on the soft support to steady it, and puts the pork in his mouth, humming gratefully as he chews.

It’s not the best katsudon he’s ever had – he was in a rush, and since he made it it’s cooled slightly, not as perfectly crisp and steaming as would have been ideal. But he’s still drooling, although how much of that is for the katsudon, he’d be hard-pressed to say. He uses his free hand to cup Viktor’s balls, keeping watch on his hard dick pressed up against the underside of the clear tray. It’s so tempting to slide his hand up onto it, but that would mean shifting the tray, and Yuuri forces himself to refocus on chewing with a bit of a struggle. 

A half-sigh, half-whimper escapes from Viktor’s gagged mouth, and his legs twitch, a barely-there motion that tilts the tray ever so slightly for a moment. Yuuri settles his palm on the taught, round muscles of the ass in front of him and reaches for another mouthful of katsudon with his chopsticks. It’s hard, so hard - Viktor is being so good for him, holding himself in this pose, trying to be useful and giving even in this context, and Yuuri tries to push all his love and gratitude through his hand into Viktor’s warm skin. Viktor’s eyes open just a sliver, and Yuuri thinks he can see him try to smile around the gag, but certainly his flushed face and flushed cock are both enough of a tell of his enjoyment as it is. Yuuri smiles back at him and gives up on his complete self-restraint, his hand removed to slowly stroke through his own precum as he takes another bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the following [piece of pure unrestrained delight](https://twitter.com/yuuripaws/status/914713132437733376?s=19), lovingly provided to me by Chel just days before I needed to write this chapter. Bless you and the artist for this gift. (●♡∀♡)


	16. Nipple Play

Yuuri loves making Viktor’s breath hitch - that tiny sign that he’s doing something right, something surprising, intriguing, exciting… delightful. Often it’s on the ice, or when they’re talking, or Yuuri manages to do something which Viktor interprets in a particularly flattering way, but right now the action is so much more targeted as Yuuri tightens the barrel of the shiny new nipple clamp. 

Gleaming gold, with black rubber tips, and a heavy gold chain joining it to the second clamp; Yuuri is positively giddy with excitement at trying it out. Just the thought of pulling Viktor around by the chain makes him want to burst into bubbles, knowing that it will take so much less pressure than pulling on Viktor’s collar rings, and with how sensitive Viktor is he might get to see some new reactions as well. 

He grins at Viktor when it’s in place, seeing how he struggles to maintain composure, and picks up the second clamp. He’s partway through tightening it when he notices the weight change in his hand; in confusion, he looks at the chain and sees the first clamp lying on a fold in Viktor’s stomach. His hand trembles a little, and he looks back up to meet Viktor’s eyes. 

“Sorry, I must have not tightened it enough… I’ll do this one first.” 

Viktor nods, and Yuuri takes more care this time, tightening the mechanism as far as it goes and checking that it’s centred just right. He picks up the first clamp again, and he’s _sure_ he didn’t yank the chain, which is why he’s greatly annoyed when he realises the tightened clamp has slipped off again. 

“Lay down.” Yuuri pushes Viktor’s shoulder firmly into the bed, and under Viktor’s calm, questioning gaze he determinedly tries to reattach one of the clamps without the nefarious impact of gravity on the heavy metal, which is no longer feeling like such a beneficial component of this particular toy compared to when he first spotted it. The two of them watch, frozen, as the tightened clamp slowly but surely slides itself off Viktor’s nipple until it pops off, mocking them with its slippery rubber “safety” features. 

“I don’t think this is going to work, Yuuri. Let’s try something else?” 

Sourness churns in Yuuri’s stomach - he had _plans_ , damn it, and now he’s certain Viktor is losing his erection to boot as Yuuri’s confidence starts to tatter. He shoves the cold chain onto the floor and grabs the clothes pegs he keeps in the bedside cabinet, swiftly pinching them onto Viktor’s nipples and breathing in relief at Viktor’s sharp, pained gasps.

His hand stroking up Viktor’s length confirms that it’s hardening right back up rapidly, just as he’d hoped. “I’ll figure those out later. Now, remind me, how long can you last in these again?..”


	17. Orgasm Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeey look it's a continuation of chapter 9! :D  
> tags - handjobs

Yuuri has been waiting for a while, and releases the breath he was holding in anticipation when Viktor finally speaks:

“...I’m close.”

Yuuri immediately takes his hand off Viktor’s cock, resting it on his hipbone instead. He closes his eyes and he listens in through the stillness of the room: Viktor’s heartbeat, his shifting breaths, the slightest clink of the chain joining Viktor’s limbs. He can hear Viktor trying to regain control, and adjusts his own breathing to match, holding back from rutting up against Viktor clumsily. His body has been suffused with tender joy for what feels like ages - he can never get enough of seeing Viktor like this, straining in his bonds, so desperate and needy and unable to do anything about it, and allowing Yuuri to keep him from reaching his goal purely because Yuuri asked him to. It’s a heady feeling, and only his desire to _keep_ doing this for as long as he’s able prevents Yuuri from getting lost in it. 

“I’m ok now.”

Yuuri hums in acknowledgement, and gently, slowly, wraps his hand around Viktor’s cock again. It’s leaking, and as he coats his palm and fingers in stickiness and starts sliding again, he can smell the sweat, and sex, and Viktor’s slightly floral shampoo, and the crispness of the sheets all mixing, rough and intoxicating. He’s burning up, and it seems like almost no time at all-

“Close…”

Yuuri gives him a few extra strokes and then stops again, and presses a kiss to the closest area of goosebumped, trembling skin that he can reach. “Thank you for telling me.” He closes his eyes and curls around Viktor, pulling him closer. Just a few more times, and if Viktor can last without going over the edge he can have his reward.


	18. Latex

“Viktor.”

“Hmm?” Viktor doesn’t look up, too busy flipping through the small booklet with care instructions.

“I think they forgot to put in a zipper.”

The black rubber feels thick and slippery in his hands, and there’s a _lot_ of it. It’s heavy, substantial, and spills down from his arms with gentle wobbling noises as it brushes against itself. Yuuri has been turning it around, examining the various parts, and while he thinks he’s got the general idea down easily (two arms, two legs and a middle part, with only a few neat seams to form a decadent catsuit), he’s only found a single very short zipper between the legs and it doesn’t seem to make sense. Considering how much they paid for it, and how much longer they waited for it to arrive, to see such a blatant error so quickly is already starting to fan the flames of his anxiety. 

“What?” Viktor’s head snaps up, and he tosses the papers onto the bed to gently take the suit from Yuuri’s hands, holding it up and looking at both sides. “No, it’s fine, the zipper is right here.” 

“Yes, but…” Yuuri frowns, tilting his head, feeling like there is a blatant disconnect somewhere, “...I won’t be able to get in through that.” 

“Oh, of course not! You just slide it on through the neck.” 

Yuuri squints at Viktor’s face, trying to figure out if that’s his genuine enthusiastic smile he’s seeing or if Viktor is playing some kind of joke on him. The neck of the catsuit is, quite clearly, neck-sized. Not shoulder- or chest- or hip-sized. This is ridiculous, and Yuuri is certain his expression reflects that thought clearly, because Viktor quickly adds: “It’ll stretch, don’t worry. That’s just how it’s designed.” 

Yuuri watches, skeptical, as Viktor smears a generous helping of silicone lubricant throughout the insides, then pulls the garment from Viktor’s grasp and turns it around. “Ok then… let’s try this.” 

He holds the collar with both hands and gently pulls, then a little harder, his eyes widening in surprise at how sturdy and stretchy it feels. Suddenly he’s a lot more confident that it won’t break, and he slides in one foot and feels around the insides for the right leg hole. This part is just like the stocking, he thinks, as he tugs the thick, slippery folds up towards his knee, taking a moment to grin at Viktor’s initiative in kneeling below him and holding the remainder of the suit out of the way. Viktor’s enthusiasm for sinking to his knees never gets old. 

With the collar up past his knee and his lower leg smoothed, Yuuri feels like it’s as good a time as any to add the second leg - and almost topples over as he loses his balance, one hand darting out to grab onto Viktor’s shoulder at the last second. They stare at each other for a moment and then burst into giggles, and Yuuri tries to raise his leg a second time, more prepared now for how much force he needs to put on the latex to stretch it wide enough. With both legs squeezed together at the knees, he adjusts the second leg until it matches the first, shiny and encased in rubber with no kinks or folds. 

It’s tight, now, and Yuuri has to wiggle a bit with every stretch and pull, dragging the slipping rubber over his thighs. He’s worried he looks absolutely ridiculous, like some sort of shiny penguin that is forced to waddle everywhere with tightly bound legs, but when he looks down at Viktor all he sees is a soft, determined gaze. Yuuri finally reaches the top of his legs, bottom lip wedged between his teeth, when he suddenly feels like he doesn’t have enough hands. 

“Viktor, can you-”

“Of course! Should I just grab here?”

“Yeah, uh, I think,” - with Viktor’s hand pulling at the latex on one side, Yuuri’s hand on the opposite side and his other hand making extra clearance for his dick, the neckline slides up and over his hips shockingly easily, so quickly that Yuuri loses his grip and the latex snaps taught against his skin - “ow! Ah!”

“Are you ok?” Viktor immediately checks in and starts hovering, concern on his face.

“Um, yeah, just help me move it a bit,” Yuuri whimpers, and together they tug the neck out and back down over his hips, where it doesn’t feel like he has a rubber band squeezing the life out of his boneless waist. He takes the opportunity to adjust the rest of his legs, lubed up fingers struggling to get a purchase on the material, and suddenly the hole near the zipper makes a lot more sense as it settles right over his crotch. He slips his penis through and asks, grinning: “You got it made with a cock ring? Really?” 

“It seemed like the best option.” Viktor grins back, clearly looking forward to testing the functionality out later. “I didn’t really think we’d like a front zipper, it might be too rough.” 

Yuuri freezes, horror sliding its icy fingers down his spine at the images his traitorous imagination immediately serves up of the tight latex pushing the zipper down onto his soft skin and then getting something down there _stuck_ in it. 

“Nooooo no no no, definitely not. This seems _great._ ” 

With the black rubber stretched and settled on his ass, rear zipper centred and full use of his legs regained, Yuuri braces himself and starts pulling the top part up, past his waist and straight to the top of his ribcage. It’s tighter than the corset, constricting him, and Yuuri struggles to breathe a little as he tries to figure out where to from here. Viktor clearly has ideas, however, as he suddenly grabs Yuuri’s hand, rubbing lube all over it, then holds a steady hand against his shoulder. 

“Here, let me-” he says, pulling the neck out as far as he can with a tight grip, and Yuuri notices the gaping opening when he drags his attention off the digging pressure on the other side of his ribs. He takes the opportunity to slide his hand in, feeling a little like a twisted pretzel as he tries to get his elbow past the stiff rubber shoulder and into the tight sleeve. Viktor releases the neck once it’s over the top of his arm, and they work together to get the sleeve smoothed down and untwisted. 

With the neckline stretched between his neck and his armpit now, Yuuri feels squeezed and off-kilter, and his arm is forced up so awkwardly that he’s not sure how to get a firm enough grip on the catsuit now. 

“Viktor, I need help.” He plucks at the edge of the latex below his arm feebly.

Viktor darts over to the other side and repeats his actions, tugging the opening wide until Yuuri thinks he can just barely manoeuvre his arm in. “I’ve got it, is this far enough?” 

“Yeah, I think-” Yuuri pushes in and away from his body, sliding into the second sleeve, and the collar shrinks into shape with a gentle snap. “-it’s in.” 

“It’s in!” Viktor’s face lights up in joy, and Yuuri can’t help grinning back. Now that it’s all done and no longer a struggle, the rubber feels barely there, hugging his body so seamlessly and evenly that it’s almost unnoticeable. He’s glad that Viktor convinced him to get a custom-made outfit to match his measurements. Yuuri takes a moment to look down at himself, the latex grabbing and shrinking every part of him it can, a decadent second skin so firm and squeezing and delightful. There’s something about the subtle tightness that is starting to make him burn in his core, not just from the warm, unbreathing material, but something deeper, keener, and he feels his arousal building while Viktor comes back to his side with a cloth and a rubber shining spray. 

“You look gorgeous,” Viktor breathes out, eyes blown wide, as he begins to polish Yuuri’s body to a reflective gloss, Yuuri’s hardening dick the unspoken herald of things to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (to be continued… prep is done, time to play ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) )


	19. Formal Wear

Viktor submits willingly, of course. It’s not like he has to be forced onto his knees or pushed into restraints - the thrill he feels as he offer his wrists, his legs, the curve of his neck are reason enough. But there’s a difference between merely wishing to please, to work tirelessly and meet and exceed every expectation placed upon him, and to satisfy himself through the fulfilled desires of his audience, and this - 

The feeling suffuses Viktor to the core, spilling over him like a warm bath, as he steals another glance sideways at Yuuri. His Yuuri, as lovely as he normally is, now sitting straighter, standing taller, filling out his suit from Barcelona perfectly and making Viktor’s mouth parched just looking at him. He’s all sharp edges and angles and hidden muscle, reeking power even before he turns to meet his gaze, and any additional confident looks and demands are just the cherry on top, rounding out the picture.

Yes, Viktor will submit willingly most days, switching to that mindset easily, like a step over a threshold. But when Yuuri looks like this, Viktor knows he’s already there, eager and ready for his slightest whim. The streets they pass skitter along the edges of his vision, leaving no imprints on his memory; there’s simply no room, as everything in his being throbs with Yuuri Yuuri Yuuri. Viktor’s not sure what he wants: Yuuri’s hand on his face, or maybe his crotch, or his whole body above him, pinning him down and overwhelming all his senses. He closes his eyes for a moment, resigning himself to being half-hard and distracted for the rest of their dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> consistent chapter sizes? I don't know her


	20. Dirty Talk

Yuuri knows, as he skates back to the boards, that the run-through of Eros he just finished was absolutely appalling. Even with marking all the jumps and trying to focus on the choreography, he’s simply can’t latch onto the feeling of it, the mix of katsudon and womanly wiles slipping through his outstretched fingers and sinking through the ice, completely inaccessible as he worries about how much he needs to improve before the Cup of China. And now Viktor has called him back over, and he can see with dread that Viktor is clutching the bridge of his nose with his gloved fingers, which means he’s in for some serious complaints from his coach. 

He keeps his eyes down as he slows to a stop, avoiding Viktor’s face before the inevitable onslaught.

“Yuuri, what were you picturing out there?”

Yuuri grabs his water bottle and mumbles between sips of water, “...katsudon?”

He can practically hear Viktor rolling his eyes. Yuuri knows he’s been struggling, the lukewarm responses from his coach a confirmatory stamp over his own assessment of his abilities, and he’s just not sure what he can do to get the feeling to flow through his body correctly. He’s still got the gestures and movements that Minako helped him with, amended and refined since then, but...

“Yuuri, turn around and close your eyes.” 

Yuuri turns obediently, smiling to himself. He’s been wondering if Viktor would try this again after regionals. Of course, he doesn’t need further reminders to try to seduce Viktor - he’s thinking about it himself all the time! He simply has no real idea whether he’s succeeding, or what _specifically_ he should be thinking of, and absently registers Viktor’s hands settling onto his shoulders.

Viktor’s hot breath drifts past his ear. “As you start, think about how stunning you look. Right from your first steps, I’ll be drunk with desire, so desperate to taste you that I’d beg to have just your fingers in my mouth.” 

Yuuri gulps, eyes flying wide open in an instant as Viktor’s hands run down his arms. Is he going to take his hand into his mouth right now?! He wants to say something, to give Viktor some response, but he’s so scandalised that his vocal cords seize up and all that comes out of his throat is a squeaky, whiny “eeeeeh?”. 

“You can bring me to my knees with just a look, you know. Will you let me see that, Yuuri? Think about control, and looking down from above as you attach a leash to my neck and lead me around by the collar.” 

Is this what a volcano feels like? Yuuri hysterically thinks that his blood might start boiling out of his face at any moment, and although he knows Yuuko’s security cameras won’t have the resolution to notice the goings-on under his dance belt, he still feels a sudden urge to cover himself with his hands. He’s barely kissed Viktor _twice_ so far, where is this all coming from?!

“You’re going to pull me in all the way to the centre of the ice with your skating and let everyone see that you’ve made me yours, that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right out there, beneath you and in your hands.”

Yuuri’s filthiest fantasies are pulling themselves out of the dark mental basement he’s tried fruitlessly to keep them confined in, and filling him with an odd mix of dread and pride. He’s been working so hard at restraining his outbursts and not climbing Viktor like a tree this whole time, but if Viktor has started talking to him like this, then maybe… 

Yuuri spins around, clutches onto the neckline of Viktor’s shirt in a surge of confidence and crushes their mouths together. He feels like he’s pulling Viktor in, bringing him down to his level and tearing him apart, and this ridiculous man is putty in his hands before he’s even skated Eros for him. When he releases Viktor, he sees him stunned, cheeks flushed and making no moves to stand back upright, and Yuuri can’t help but lick his lips. He knows he’s on the right track when he sees Viktor follow the motion with his eyes and take a shaky breath, and he turns to speed to the centre of the rink with quick, powerful strokes. 

This feels _right_ , it feels good as it settles into his bones, and as the music in his head restarts Yuuri mentally wraps the end of the leash tightly around his hand.


	21. Food Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NqA-mP0MhZg>  
>  Two minutes of ridiculousness from Tampopo, a Japanese classic from the 80s. The whole movie is highly recommended, I promise it’s not all like this scene.

“What… what are they doing? Isn’t this the yakuza guy?”

Viktor stares at the screen, eyes darting back and forth as he takes in the scene in front of him. In his peripheral vision he can see Yuuri bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. He keeps watching, and a truly undignified snort bursts out of him when the egg yolk gets passed from mouth to mouth a second time. 

Viktor’s jaw drops, unbelieving, as the scene keeps going. 

“Did- did she just- oh no, ohhhh no!” 

Viktor slams the pause button on the remote, wiping tears from his eyes. He leans forward, face in his hands, as he tries to force air into his lungs between gasping sobs. When he feels somewhat recovered, he looks up and takes a peek at Yuuri beside him; he seems to be mostly controlled, but a flush on his cheeks and tight lips betray that he, too, is on the edge of laughter. 

“Hey Yuuri,” Viktor drops his voice deeper, trying to sound sensual before he falls apart into giggles again, “do you want to get… _eggy_?” 

Yuuri’s eyes widen, then he falls forward against Viktor's chest and howls with laughter, clutching onto Viktor’s shirt. Viktor can’t help but start laughing again with him, even though his cheeks are already beginning to hurt from how much he’s laughed already. It takes a while before they both recover enough to unpause the movie.


	22. Handjobs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags - cum eating, orgasm denial

Viktor stroked faster, spurred on by Yuuri’s quiet, needy gasps. He couldn’t get enough of feeling that delicate skin in his hand, dampened with precum, smooth and a little slippery and so hardened underneath that it was simply satisfying to grasp. Viktor’s own erection was pressed up against Yuuri’s back, shifting and rubbing a little with each movement as an afterthought.

Yuuri’s fingers dug deeper into his thigh, harsh and firm, as he spilled warm and thick into his hand. Viktor closed his eyes, pressing his forehead into the back of Yuuri’s neck and breathing deeply, the smell of sweat and sex curling around him. 

“Viktor…” 

Viktor could hear Yuuri’s breaths steadying rapidly, feel his chest loosen where Viktor was pressing against it with his other hand. “Mm?”

“...clean up.”

Viktor stilled - there was no easy way to move, trapped as he was behind Yuuri, and Yuuri’s hand was still firmly gripping his thigh with no sign of releasing him. So that meant…

Viktor lifted his face away from Yuuri and brought the sticky right hand up to his mouth, taking in Yuuri’s spend with his tongue. He swallowed the harsh, salty taste, desperately licking around his ring and between his fingers until they were thoroughly clean. Yuuri filled all his senses, all his thoughts, and Viktor almost groaned at the reminder that he was still hard and pressed up against his skin. He could see that Yuuri had turned his head and was watching him out of the corner of his eye - maybe, if he was enthusiastic enough at this, Yuuri might finally, _finally_ let him come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Apologies for the hiatus, things got hectic and I decided to try to actually sleep for a week instead of panic-writing each chapter at 1am. My goal is to catch up until I post chapter 31 on time!


	23. Shibari

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags - gags

Yuuri feels too warm, too embarrassed about the fact that he actually considered packing _toys_ with him to Europeans. But with how Viktor asked him half an hour ago to take over, to help him get his mind off the upcoming competition, he’s also somewhat glad he has an option available to him and he doesn’t have to improvise with things from the hotel room. Yuuri nudges the ropes against Viktor’s mouth and pushes them forward when it opens, soft and willing. The supple roughness of red hemp brushes against his hand, a little resistant as he lays it flat over Viktor’s upper arm, and he runs his fingers under the twists a second time. 

It’s scary how beautiful Viktor is like this - naked, his strength clearly on display, yet bound and constrained by the ropes digging into his skin, indenting into his muscles. The pose, with arms raised and hands behind his head, forces him to resist the ropes even without intending to, a subtle strain externally applied. The tighter the ropes pull against Viktor’s wrists and pin his limbs, the tighter Yuuri feels inside, winding up as he runs his fingers back to the start of the tie and starts tugging all the slack he can find out of the ropes. He shifts back to the front to adjust the length running past Viktor’s face, and his breath hitches as he swipes through the drool starting to drip from the corner of his lips. Viktor’s eyes blink at him, and they’re soft, so soft, and Yuuri breathes a sigh of relief at how the tension is already lifting from Viktor’s face. Yuuri presses a gentle kiss to Viktor’s forehead, and steps off the side of the bed as he goes back around the other side.

The rope only turns a few more times there: just to tighten between Viktor’s arms and face on both sides, holding the loops together, before it’s knotted off. It’s simple - almost too simple. But Yuuri only risked bringing one length of rope with him, so this is all he has for the moment. When he gets a pleasant nod and hum in response to his whispered query, he’s finally satisfied with the tightness. The knots are all symmetrical, the strands lying flat, and Yuuri feels more and more pleased with the art he has created with every turn and tuck of the final loose ends.


	24. Leather

“Ok, give me your wrists.”

Viktor’s eyes are shining like an eager puppy, arms in front of him in the blink of an eye. If he had a tail, it would be wagging and knocking into all the furniture. Yuuri blushes at the sight as he wraps the leather cuff around Viktor’s wrist. The set had barely arrived in the mail when Viktor had torn it open and demanded they try it out. Yuuri tightens the strap, the thick black leather smooth and shiny, standing out against the pebbled pink leather underneath; he tucks the end down and picks up the second cuff, turning it in his hands to try to make the buckle direction match the first one. 

“I think that’s tight enough…” 

“You can go another hole, I think.” Viktor shakes his arm slightly, showing how much empty space there is. Yuuri nods and adjusts, thumb running over the round-ended pin. 

“Do you have any locks we can use?” 

Yuuri looks up at Viktor, then back down to the cuffs, suddenly understanding why the end has a large hole. “I don’t- actually, I might have some luggage locks?” 

“Those are ugly,” Viktor pouts, and Yuuri barely holds back from rolling his eyes, “but I guess we can try them until we buy some nice ones.”

“Sure, Vitya.” 

Yuuri finishes tightening the second wrist cuff with a soft clink of silver metal, and skips over the ankle cuffs to grab the matching collar, with three large rings equally-spaced along it. He lifts it to Viktor’s neck, smiling as Viktor lifts his head to give him more room, and walks to the back to bring it tight. The leather is supple under his fingers, bending around Viktor smoothly, and Yuuri keeps his hands on it to enjoy the feeling when it’s done. 

“Well, how does it look?” Viktor sounds impatient, making Yuuri smile as he comes back to face him. 

“It’s gorgeous. Pink really suits you.” 

The corners of Viktor’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, and his curved lips are simply too enticing to _not_ kiss. Yuuri fingers the silver ring at the front of the collar for a few seconds, until it warms to his body temperature, then hooks a finger in it and yanks him down.


	25. Boot Worship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation from #5 - feet

The metal eyelets are cold under his lips, gleaming silver as he moves back down the legs, trying to touch every single one. The patent leather squeaks a little under his grip as it bends and twists, tight and shining around Yuuri’s leg. Viktor can almost see his own reflection in it as he reaches the very start of the lacing, and lifts the boot ever so slightly higher in front of his face. 

Viktor leaves tiny kisses on the edge of the boot, following the ridge where the curve meets the sole, and trying to show his devotion to every last centimetre. He’s lost count by the time he reaches the heel, shifting his hands around as he gently, carefully supports Yuuri’s ankle. The heel is thin, and pointed, and it’s all of a second’s thought before Viktor slides his entire tongue up the edge and down the back, mouth open and giving. He can feel every corner on his tongue, hooking over and under as he shifts, as he turns his head for an easier angle. He wonders if he should take the whole heel into his mouth and suck it - the sole is clean, and he feels so privileged that Yuuri wears these boots only in the bedroom, allows him to touch them like this and show Yuuri how much he appreciates what his feet do. 

He feels a change in pressure, and flicks his eyes up to Yuuri’s face at last as the heel is taken away from him and the toe of the boot ends up in front of his mouth. It’s an easy hint, and Viktor is more than willing to take it - he opens his lips and takes it in, keeping his teeth well away from the delicate surface, and revels in the affection he can see on Yuuri’s face from so far above him. 

He almost chokes, and has to release all but the tip, when he feels Yuuri’s other boot press firmly against the head of his cock through his lace panties where it was lightly resting before. Desire swirls inside him, and his arms tremble as he does his best to keep Yuuri’s leg in place. His next breath is cut off as he pushes his mouth onto the toe again as far as it will go, trapped between the two harsh, narrow points, and he’s not sure whether he’s seeing stars or just the sparkle of reflective patent and metal rings before his eyes as his orgasm takes over, pumping himself into the lace with a stifled, drooling sob.


	26. Toys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags - anal play (bottom Viktor)

Yuuri is almost in a trance, slowly rubbing the steel ball against Viktor’s hole and pushing it in and out, watching the shifting lube glisten in the low light as it slides around. It’s slow and relaxing work, and he can feel Viktor opening up, the pressure slowly bringing the unyielding globe further and further into his body. 

It finally sinks in, pulled in with a smooth motion, and Viktor breathes heavily through his nose into the sheets. Yuuri slides his hands over Viktor’s ass and up his back, dipping along his curved spine in needy sweep, and ends at his collar, adjusting the closest ring until it sits level. Viktor’s closed eyes fly open at the sound of chain links jangling against each other, straining to see what Yuuri is doing as he feeds the chain through the collar ring and all the way down, retracing his fingers’ path. The cold of the metal sends tiny tremors through Viktor’s muscles, sure to have triggered goosebumps if he hadn’t already been so heated.

The clasp clinks into place, and Yuuri starts to pull on the loop of the chain leash, pulling the reflective links taught. Viktor closes his eyes again, ass puckering around the inserted anal hook as it’s tugged up, and every next clink of metal against metal sends a tiny jolt of movement like a spark into both the collar and Yuuri’s hands. Yuuri keeps on ratcheting it up, slowly and steadily, until Viktor can’t help but bring his head back against the heady pull.


	27. Against a Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags - mild CBT

“You remember the rule?”

“Don’t let the coin fall down.” 

“That’s right,” Yuuri smiles and, with one last kiss to the back of Viktor’s neck, pulls his hands away from on top of Viktor’s where they’re pressed against the wall. He pushes his hands gently against Viktor’s inner thighs, encouraging him to spread his legs wider, and forcing him to stand a little on his toes in order to balance. It looks awkward, and he grins to himself at how Viktor has to adjust as he sets the timer on his phone to ten minutes. 

Phone slipped into his pocket, he gets to work - his first instinct is to knead the delicious naked ass in front of him, and he indulges for a little while, hands sunk into the firm, springy muscle, before he remembers that he has work to do and moves one hand to Viktor’s balls. Teasing, tickling motions alternate with firm grasps and pulls, taking time to savour every bit of texture and resistance he feels to his squeezing, feeling for every millimetre Yuuri can get to stretch away from his body. When he feels that Viktor may have adjusted, he brings his other hand around to settle on his dick, enjoying that opportunity to really hold him tight, to put some force into it that’s harsher than Viktor would like, to feel him throbbing painfully in his grip and not let go. He can tell by Viktor’s shifting weight that he’s trembling and struggling to stay up, clearly affected by the experience as he’s pulled in two directions, but his hands stay firmly on the wall and his head does not move. 

A sharp, insistent buzz startles Yuuri, and he steps back and switches off his alarm. “Ahh, you made it!” he says, a little disappointed that it’s over so quickly, wondering whether to set the alarm for double the time if they try this again as Viktor breathes out and sinks onto his heels, finally leaning away from the wall, arms relaxed. Yuuri squints in confusion: the clatter of the coin against the floor that he’s bracing for never happens, and instead it seems to be glued to the wall exactly where Viktor had been holding it up with only his nose. He scrambles up and pokes it, trying to ignore Viktor’s giggles as it finally comes unstuck from the vertical surface, the dampness from his breath still coating it. 

Yuuri can’t contain the tiny groan in his throat. “That wasn’t supposed to happen! That’s cheating!” 

Viktor wraps his arms around Yuuri from behind, sliding his hands straight into the bottom of his shirt: “We can try doing it a different way in the future. Now, when do I get my reward?” He gives a cheeky grin in response to Yuuri’s grumble and push towards their bed.


	28. Stripping

Viktor breathes heavily, dragging his hand off himself with effort to desperately grasp the sheets instead. He closes his eyes for just a moment, then lets them fly open as he hears Yuuri move, blood pounding in his ears as he wonders which item Yuuri will choose next. He drinks in the sight of him greedily; Yuuri moves a hand slowly down the front of his body, pausing at his waistband - and then Viktor sighs in frustration as Yuuri keeps on moving and gently peels off a single dark sock with an infuriating smirk on his face. 

It’s all Viktor can do to brush his fringe off his forehead, adjusting it a second time to push the stuck hairs off his skin, while Yuuri neatly folds the sock and lays it out on the pile to join the jacket, tie, waistcoat and glasses, each one painstakingly earned by bringing himself to the edge and holding himself back from the brink. It gets harder every time, but Viktor is determined, and hopefully focuses his gaze on Yuuri’s belt as he grabs hold of his cock once more.


	29. Sleepy Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags - anal sex (bottom Yuuri)

The sunlight filtering through the gauzy curtains brings Yuuri to barely-there consciousness as it tickles his nose. His eyelids still feel heavy, and he’s not sure whether it’s waking time yet, keeping his eyes closed, his mind slipping over snatches of gentle birdsong, the occasional distant car, Viktor’s warm arm splayed across his front, his body against his back and the hints of morning wood somewhere close to his bare ass. Yuuri stirs just enough to bring one arm back and grasp Viktor’s butt, too lazy to squeeze but still keen enough to push Viktor’s hips forward, feeling the length of his erection between his cheeks, and thinking fondly of how late into last night they’d stayed joined, how good it felt and how it really wasn’t quite enough. 

“Mmm, Viktor… in me.”

A soft breath across the back of his neck, a quiet chuckle. “Yeah?”

“...yeah.”

He drifts, vaguely registering Viktor’s arm slipping up off his chest, the dip of the mattress adjusting, perhaps a crinkle of plastic somewhere but he pays it no heed as he nuzzles back into the pillow. He thinks he might have been asleep again when he feels a slick, slow push into him, and he starts to wake just a little more, lifting his leg just a little to ease the way as the fullness overtakes his thoughts.


	30. Costume

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from #18  
> Inspired by: <https://twitter.com/F8CmsAPldXJM0ye/status/1046863587149373440>  
> Look at it, it’s so tight and shiny o_o
> 
>  
> 
> Tags - blowjob (bottom viktor), anal fingering (bottom yuuri)

Yuuri skims his palm over the surface of the latex, the transparent sections striping down his chest in very reminiscent patterns. “You really did get it to match the Eros costume. I didn’t realise you liked it this much.” 

Viktor seems to be struggling to keep laughter out of his voice, “I _adore_ it on you, Yuuri, but the original costume definitely can’t stand up to any potential wear and tear like this can.” 

Yuuri finishes bringing his hand down to fist his cock. “Wear and tear, you say?” He gives Viktor what he hopes is a challenging grin, and judging from the expression he gets in return, he thinks he succeeded.

Viktor drops to his knees. “Please, can I use my mouth on you? Please!”

Yuuri takes a step closer and pulls his head back by the hair, smirking down at him. “Is that what you want, huh? And what about what I want?” 

“Anything, of course. Whatever you want.” 

Yuuri sees no reason why he can’t have both. “Your fingers as well, then.” He watches in amusement as Viktor scrambles up with the barest nod and comes back with lube, grasping Yuuri’s thighs greedily as he brings his mouth right up to take Yuuri in. For a while, Yuuri indulges, uncaring of the fact that he asked for something else. He’s already starting to forget himself in the delightfully familiar heat and warmth when the sound of zipper teeth slowly clicking apart accompanies the licks and sucks, and Yuuri can feel his new second skin being tugged on and opened up. 

Viktor’s fingers are long, and skilled, and thoroughly capable of taking him apart at the best of times; but now, with the zipper barely opened enough to give access, his cheeks are squeezed together, pulled taught in a rubber hold, and he can feel every little ridge and movement in and out of him vibrating through the whole surface. He gasps, trembling, and digs his hands tight into Viktor’s hair, holding on for dear life as the combined assault from front and back threatens to erode the last of his control. One hand shifts down, palm spread against the side of Viktor’s jaw, and encourages him to stay in position as he finally releases over Viktor’s tongue and lips and chin, painting him white against the reflective black of his own attire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand that's a wrap! Thank you for sticking with me through these little snippets. A huge huge huge thanks to [Chel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyofthefl0wers/pseuds/Ladyofthefl0wers) for being a tireless cheerleader all the way as I was writing. <3
> 
> Chapter 31 will be posted as a separate work, so if you're not subscribed to me as an author or to the series you'll have to remember to click through for a nice 2.5k+ scene ;)
> 
> Also I mostly hang out at the 18+!!! on Ice Discord server, so if you're of age and want to chill with other adult fans, you know what to do: <https://discord.gg/jRXfSXc>


	31. Free day

Since I still have a few subscribers here - don't forget that chapter 31 was posted as a separate work!

[Clicky click for more, and longer, sub!vitya.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487123?view_full_work=true) Also it now comes with ART!!! Oof /fanning self

**Author's Note:**

> leave me a comment below or on [tumblr](https://tasty-pile-of-glitter.tumblr.com/), you know you want to
> 
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


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